


Tea and Radical Deliciousness In Scones

by Awkward_Dalek



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I don't really have an excuse for this, Multi, but everyone loves coffee shop au's right?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_Dalek/pseuds/Awkward_Dalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The… T-A-R-D-I-S?” River asked, spelling out the word, confused.<br/>“TARDIS. Tea and Radical Deliciousness in Scones,” John supplied happily, jabbing at the messy handwriting on the paper where he’d written exactly that.<br/>River raised an eyebrow, looking from the paper to John, then back to the paper. “That doesn’t even make any sense,” she said, handing the papers back to him. She knew though, from past experience, there was little she could do to stop him from going through with this so she took a deep breath and nodded. “But if you are serious about this then I guess we can try it.”</p><p>Or the one in which John has an idea, River goes along with it and Amy seriously begins to wonder about her friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so for the purposes of this AU the Doctor will be known as John because it just makes sense for him to have an actual name I guess.  
> I'm aiming for this to be around ten or eleven chapters so we'll see how it goes and I'll try to update reasonably regularly although I shan't make any promises because that usually ends badly.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

River had seen her husband come up with some pretty stupid ideas. There was the time he’d tried (and failed rather spectacularly) to build a motorbike from scraps he’d scavenged from different workshops. She’d seen him attempt to barter with criminals and build a full scale version of the tower of London out of Lego bricks.

This, however, seemed to cross a line. She’d take the criminals and the random scraps of computers lying around their apartment any day over this.

“You are not buying a coffee shop.”

The look of utter devastation on John’s face would have made any other person’s resolve crumble in seconds. River, however, had built up intolerance over the years and simply crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down.

“But River it’s a good idea! We’d get to meet so many great people and-”

“It’ll be another project you get bored with and abandon a few months after starting it!” She interrupted, gesturing around at the random bits and pieces of long forgotten projects that were scattered around their apartment.

John made a noise of indignation and scowled. “That’s not going to happen this time. I'm serious about this, River!”

River opened her mouth to respond but before another word could be said about the matter John was shuffling through papers that were strewn across the coffee table.

“John, what are you looking for?”

River’s question was met with silence and she sighed, wondering how on earth he expected to find anything in the state their home was in.

“John I-”

“Aha!”

River soon found herself being handed different pieces of paperwork. Amongst them were blueprints and drawings of interiors, longs lists of the prices of certain foods and beverages, print outs of buildings for sale, and, the one that caught her eye, a list of names with one that was circled multiple times.

“The… T-A-R-D-I-S?” River asked, spelling out the word, confused.

“TARDIS. Tea and Radical Deliciousness in Scones,” John supplied happily, jabbing at the messy handwriting on the paper where he’d written exactly that.

River raised an eyebrow, looking from the paper to John, then back to the paper. “That doesn't even make any sense,” she said, handing the papers back to him. She knew though, from past experience, there was little she could do to stop him from going through with this so she took a deep breath and nodded. “But if you are serious about this then I guess we can try it.”

It was worth it just to see the way his expression brightened so and anyway, River had always loved an adventure.

-

It turned out there were a lot of buildings for sale which they could use as a café. An awful lot. After two weeks of looking at all the different places their estate agent was starting to become decidedly grumpy. She and River spent most of their time snapping at each other whilst John wandered around all the buildings, becoming more and more disappointed each time.

A full two months into their search and incredibly late in the afternoon, the estate agent led them down a rather busy street, and River couldn't help but doubt they’d be able to afford anything in this part of town. There were businesses surrounding the area, restaurants and book stores, clothes shops and fancy looking offices.

“Here, this is quite possibly the last available place I can find in the area you want. We will have to widen the search if this isn't what you’re looking for,” the estate agent said, trying her best to be polite but looking for all the world like she’d rather strangle the pair of them.

After nods from both River and John, the door was unlocked and they were shown around the building. It was mostly empty save for a few chairs that were stacked up against a nearby wall and, judging from the dust, it had been empty for a long time.

“This building housed a café before, so you don’t need to worry about getting permission,” the estate agent was saying, flicking through the file as she led them from the front of the building to the kitchen. She told them bits and pieces about the building, handing River the file to look through as she answered John’s questions.

Leading them from the kitchen, out in to the courtyard at the back and up a metal staircase, she pulled out another key and unlocked the door, pushing it open. “This is the apartment that comes with the building,” she explained, showing them in. “It’s small, one bedroom with an en suite, kitchen slash dining room, and the living room. Two people could live here comfortably.”

River laughed, looking around the apartment with a shake of her head. “Not these two people,” she muttered under her breath, thinking about how this apartment would barely fit in all their belongings, let alone themselves.

The estate agent looked disheartened and River, feeling slightly guilty, went back to looking through the file, chewing on her lower lip.

“It is big enough downstairs for your café idea though,” the estate agent tried again, forcing a smile. “And you could always use the upstairs for storage.”

River looked around, back to the file and then to John, thinking it over. “It is in a very nice area,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction. “And the price isn't too bad.”

“It’s been empty for a while,” the estate agent told her, looking ever so slightly more cheerful. “The owners have been getting a bit desperate. Chances are they’d be willing to at least go a few thousand under the set price.”

This was definitely the best place they’d seen and in a good location, but it was all pointless if John didn't like it. This was his idea, his little project and so, ultimately, he got the deciding vote.

And at the minute he was just silent. Looking around the apartment, out the window to the busy high street below, and then after ten minutes of nothing he stopped in the middle of the living room they were in and grinned. “It’s perfect. We’ll take it!”

The estate agent let out a sigh of relief - River was fairly certain she’d been holding her breath - and they started talking prices.

An hour and one phone call later, a deal had been made and suddenly everything seemed that much more real. They were going to own a café. An actual business. They’d have to quit their jobs and spend all the time here; they’d be in charge of other people. It was terrifying and exciting and River was surprised that she hadn't started regretting this decision yet.

The next day whilst John was making lunch and River looked over the various details of what owning this café would entail, the phone rang causing them both to jump slightly. The phone continued ringing as the two stared at each other; each daring the other to answer it, before John finally snatched it up, coughing to clear his throat before he answered.

“Yes, er, hello?”

‘Very professional,’ River mouthed to him, smirking.

John rolled his eyes, walking around the dining table as he spoke down the phone, stopping close to River and bending down so she could hear what was being said. It didn't occur to either of them that it would have been simpler to put it on loud speaker, instead River pressed her head closer to John’s in an attempt to hear what was being said but to no avail.

After a few minutes of hurried talking from what seemed to be both ends, River watched as John hung up the phone after quick goodbyes and grinned at her, looking absurdly happy.

“We did it River. We got the building!”

What followed that sentence was a lot of shouting and dancing, food forgotten as they decided to go out to celebrate.

-

“You want to just… give me an apartment.”

John, River, and Amy were sat in the living room of River and John’s flat, the couple happily informing their friend of what had been happening recently.

It had been decided that Amy could have the apartment above the café. Neither John nor River had a use for it and she had been saying she’d wanted to live closer to London than she was. You couldn't get much closer to London than actually living there.

Which River pointed out to her happily, hoping to whatever entity she could think of that Amy would accept because, if she didn't, they had no idea what they were going to do with it and it would just end up becoming such a waste of space.

Amy eyed her friends suspiciously, unsure. She had wanted to move into London for a while. It would be closer to her friends and she loved being here but at the same time they were just giving her an apartment and it all seemed slightly odd.

Of course they’d also just decided to open a café for no particular reason but Amy had given up trying to get them to think rationally about things a long time ago. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know where they got the money from for all of this, it was usually best to not ask.

“Is there some sort of catch?” She asked finally, feeling that slight sense of dread when John and River smiled at her. The same smile she’d seen before finding herself stuck out in Cornwall at six in the morning with an awful hangover. The same smile they’d had before Amy found herself bailing the two idiots out of jail the next day for ‘indecent behaviour’. 

She had decided to not ask for details.

All the same that smile was usually an accident waiting to happen and Amy most definitely did not want any part of it.

-

For a summers day it was freezing and the rain was certainly not helping. Ferrying the boxes from the moving van up to the flat was more effort than anyone was willing to put into anything but two hours later, and much complaining from everyone, John, River, and Amy collapsed on the floor of the apartment above the café with a disgruntled noise.

“I can’t believe I'm really doing this,” Amy said aloud from where she was lying face down on the floor, her voice muffled by the new cream carpet which by now was most likely ruined with muddy footprints.

John, who had pushed himself into a sitting position, laughed and threw a cushion at Amy, bouncing it off her head. “We can’t believe it either,” he replied honestly. River and him hadn't had high hopes but were thankful she’d agreed to move in. It, surprisingly, hadn't taken much convincing and after they’d redecorated the place she’d been pretty enthusiastic.

“I don’t just mean the moving in thing though,” Amy said, pushing herself to sit leaning against one of the living room walls, crossing her legs. “I mean working for you guys. Helping you do this whole crazy coffee shop idea.”

“We’re going to be your bosses,” River interjected happily, pushing herself up and moving to stretch out on the sofa, only taking her boots off when Amy had scowled in her direction.

“Yes, and that’s a terrifying prospect,” Amy decided, wondering how she was going to cope spending the majority of her time with two people who were not the safest or most sensible. She felt like she was mothering them at the best of times and she had a feeling this would only happen more often whilst working with them.

The mere thought of allowing River or John near a kitchen filled her with dread and, when she said so, the two laughed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re going to hire people to do that,” John said, waving his hand as if to dismiss Amy’s worries. “There’s going to be interviews and everything. It’ll be fine.”

River hummed in agreement and Amy just nodded, feeling a little dazed.

-

“My name is Sally Sparrow, I'm here about the position for chef?”

The girl that had opened the door paused for a moment, looking her up and down before nodding, apparently satisfied as she stepped back and allowed Sally to step inside. “ I'm Amy, John and River will be through in a sec,” the girl, Amy, was saying and Sally nodded, following her to a booth which she assumed had been set up for interviews.

“This place looks brilliant,” Sally commented, looking around the café before sitting down in the seat Amy had gestured to. “A lot better than it used to,” she added on, thinking back to when she and a friend had snuck in here, back when it had been nothing more than an abandoned building. It hadn't exactly been awful, of course, but the décor had left a bit to be desired and she could remember how dark and grim the place had seemed.

Now the windows were no longer boarded up it certainly seemed a lot nicer.

Pulled out of her thoughts by the arrival of, she guessed, John and River, Sally stood up and smiled politely, shaking their hands. John and River introduced themselves and, before Sally had the chance to sit back down she was being directed towards the kitchen.

“Let’s see what you can do!” John was saying excitedly, leading the way, and Amy offered her an apologetic smile before disappearing out the back.

-

Stretched out across two chairs Amy had pushed together, she listened to John and River squabble over possible employees like children as she stared up at the ceiling.

“I liked him! Why shouldn't he be a chef,” John was saying and Amy figured he was probably pouting.

“He can’t cook, John!” River replied, sounding exasperated as she continued sifting through CV’s.

“But he tried so hard.”

“We are not having a chef who can’t cook.”

That seemed to be the end of that argument and John huffed quietly before pushing paper across the table, Amy figured it was the now rejected CV, and picked up another. They carried on in silence for a little while, and Amy had mostly grown bored of just lying there, when a knock at the café’s door startled them.

“I’ll get it,” Amy said before the other two had a chance, pushing herself up off the chairs and heading towards the door, pulling it open and hoping the confusion didn't show on her face. She couldn't think of many reasons for someone to be knocking on the door of a café that was clearly not open but the ones she could think of weren't particularly good.

“Can I help you?” She asked, leaning against the door frame and using her foot to stop the door from closing on her.

“Yeah, I'm er, here to ask about the waiter job?” The guy said, glancing into the café and then back to Amy. “The name’s Mickey. I was just gonna drop a CV by.”

“The deadline for applications was a last Saturday. We've already held the interviews,” Amy said, sighing when she noticed the man’s expression drop. She was nothing if not sympathetic and she was well aware that most of the people that had been interviewed on Wednesday weren't exactly up for the job.

“Got any experience as a waiter?” Amy asked him, allowing the door to close behind her as she stepped forward to look at Mickey’s CV.

Mickey nodded enthusiastically, handing over the CV with a grin. “Yeah, tons. I worked at the Pizza Hut down the street, a few years ago I worked at The Harvester, and for a little while I managed a small pub.”

“And yet you want to work here,” Amy mused, glancing up to give him a confused look. “Any particular reason for that?” She was honestly quite curious as to how someone who once managed a pub was now searching for waiter jobs, especially here of all places.

The guy just shrugged, scuffing one of his feet against the pavement. “Times are hard. Can’t be picky about jobs, really,” he replied and when he looked back up at her Amy was grinning.

"Come on inside, you at least deserve a chance."

Mickey didn't have time to object that no it was fine, she needn't bother, because the girl had grabbed his arm and was dragging him inside, practically marching him over to a couple that were sat at a table, a rather disorganised mess of job applications in front of them. 

“You’re future employee is here,” Amy announced to John and River who looked slightly concerned as they glanced between her and Mickey.

“Please tell me you didn't drag this guy off of the streets,” John said, and he looked rather relieved when Amy sighed and shook her head.

“No! Well, sort of yes but this guy wants the job,” Amy said, gesturing for Mickey to take a seat opposite John and River, laying his CV out on the table.

The two paused to glance over it before asking Mickey all sorts of questions and Amy smiled slightly before making her way into the kitchen, deciding to leave them to it.

Half an hour later and Amy was perched on the counter, watching Mickey as he stood up and thanked them before walking over and nudging her leg.

“That was the weirdest interview I've ever had,” he said, speaking quietly as if afraid he’d offend the others.

Amy laughed, nudging him back with her foot. “Yes well their odd people, they thrive on weird. If you deal with it they’ll like you more.”

Mickey grinned, nodding. “I’ll keep that in mind. See ya round,” he turned to leave but stopped, glancing back at her. “You never mentioned your name?”

“It’s Amy.”

Happy, Mickey nodded once more before waving and then exiting the building and Amy watched for a moment before jumping off the counter and taking up her position across the chairs once more, shutting her eyes and listening to John and River talk.

-

“That’ll be £2.50,” River said with a smile, handing over the latte to the customer and putting the money into the till.

“It’s surprisingly busy in here,” Amy said, standing beside River and leaning forward on to the counter. When River turned to raise an eyebrow, Amy back-pedalled slightly, adding, “you know, considering we've only been open a week.”

River frowned but then nodded slightly, looking around at the customers and then back to Amy. “You have a point. Although I imagine it has something to do with Sally’s cooking. Well that and John’s fantastic advertising skills.”

Amy hummed in agreement, tapping her fingers against the counter-top. “Speaking of John,” she said after a few moments, “do you know why he’s wearing that fez now?”

Shaking her head, River sighed. It had become a permanent fixture, apparently, and John seemed determined to wear it all the time. She wasn't even sure when or where he’d bought it, it just seemed to appear one day and now she couldn't get him to take it off. “Haven’t a clue. I’ll get rid of it though, one way or another.”

“You guys realise he’ll just buy a new one, right?” Mickey said, carefully balancing three different plates as he walked past them towards table 14.

“Not if I can help it,” River muttered under her breath. When John walked out from the kitchen, grinning brightly as he placed the freshly iced cake in the display case, River found herself glaring at the hat, wondering how she could best destroy it.

“What’s got you two looking so glum?”

Amy eyed John for a moment before walking over, reaching up and taking the fez off of his head quickly before throwing it to River who caught it with a smirk.

“What are you doing why my fez?”

“It’s for your own good, John. Well, mostly our own good. We are really fed up of River complaining,” Amy said as she patted his arm comfortingly, watching as River walked into the kitchen. John followed behind her, demanding his hat back. 

"This can only end badly, you realise," Mickey said, moving to stand behind the counter with Amy and eyeing the kitchen door warily, not quite sure he wanted to venture back in there yet.

Amy snorted, turning around to attend to a customer as she spoke. "Sally is back there with them, I wouldn't worry too much." 

Not ten minutes later Sally was there, ushering both John and River back out with a scowl.

“The next time you want to cause a fire you can do it somewhere else,” she was saying, brandishing a wooden spoon as if it were a sword.

“What did they do?” Amy asked, raising an eyebrow. Over the past week she’d gotten to know her co-workers well and if there was one thing she knew about Sally it was that she was fiercely protective of her kitchen. It probably had something to do with the fact Mickey had accidentally broken the microwave and River had set a towel on fire after a rather careless moment all in the space of a few days. Either way Sally took great pride in keeping the kitchen relatively safe.

Amy was just pleased to be working with another reasonably sane person.

“River set the stupid fez on fire,” Sally said with a scowl, jabbing the spoon in River’s direction. "And then John thought it a good idea to try and snatch it off of her _whilst it was burning, _" she practically hissed, proceeding to then jab the spoon in John's direction.__

“At least he won’t be wearing it any more,” River said triumphantly, leaning over to kiss John on the cheek with a smile.

Amy sighed, handing over the hot chocolate Mickey had been busy making to the customer with a smile and an apology, wondering how they were ever going to run a serious business.


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha just wants to get some work done, Rory has a crush, and the Halloween party seemed like a better idea at the time.

Rory was staring, again, and Martha was beginning to lose her patience. They were supposed to be studying, there were tests to revise for and essays to write. However it had become apparent that Rory found staring at the red haired barista a far better use of his time.

“Rory, concentrate,” Martha sighed, kicking him under the table with a bit more force than was probably necessary. “We need to get these essays written by Thursday. That’s four days away. Four.”

That seemed to catch Rory’s attention because he turned back to his laptop, taking a sip from his coffee as he stared at the screen, not really making a move to actually write anything.

They’d not been coming here long, only a few weeks, but apparently that was long enough for Rory to gain a crush on the girl he hardly spoke to. At first Martha had been overjoyed that a new café had opened but now she wasn’t so sure it was really a good thing. Still, it was a nice change of pace from where they usually ate lunch, cheaper too, so she found she didn’t complain too much.

“Hey, here are those Panini’s you ordered,” the waiter, Mickey, was placing plates down on their table and both Martha and Rory found themselves rearranging laptops, notebooks, and coffee cups to make room for them.

“Cheers, Mickey,” Martha said with a smile.

“Not a problem. Let us know if you need anything else,” Mickey grinned, nodding at them both before leaving.

Martha and Rory fell into silence, tapping away on their laptops as they ate, occasionally pausing to exchange notes.

A little while later Martha glanced up to Rory staring at her and she raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Do you think I should ask for her number?”

“Go for it. While you’re there, grab me another coffee,” Martha replied, turning back to her laptop and handing her now empty cup to him.

-

Rory stood in the line, fidgeting slightly as he waited. It was a pretty long wait but he’d gotten used to it being quite busy in here, the quietest time tended to be early mornings which both he and Martha enjoyed taking advantage of. When he was finally at the front, he noticed Amy had disappeared and in her place stood a man he knew to be called John but had a nametag which said ‘The Doctor’.

“How can I help you?” John was asking and it took Rory a moment to register that he was being spoken to, distracted by the nametag and trying to figure out just how long it had said that.

“Oh, er, my friend wanted another coffee, please. Milk, no sugar,” Rory said, trying to see into the kitchen when River walked out to see if he could spot Amy but to no avail.

John watched, clearly amused as he made the coffee, handing it to Rory. “She’s not here. Lunch break.”

“Excuse me?”

“You aren’t particularly subtle, mate,” John said, grinning brightly.

Rory could feel himself blushing and he just nodded, pushing the money into John’s hand and muttering a thank you as he grabbed the coffee and went back to the table, sighing. He set the cup down next to Martha and then slid back into his seat, staring blankly at his screen.

“No luck then?”

Rory glanced up to Martha who was still typing, pausing only to sip her drink. “No, she wasn’t there.”

Martha looked up and smiled sympathetically. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-

“So the rumours are true?”

John frowned slightly when he heard the voice, putting down the cloth he’d been using to wipe a table and turning round.  It was early Wednesday morning, at least 6:30, and they weren’t set to open for another half an hour yet.

As soon as he saw who it was though, John grinned, pulling the person into a hug. “Craig! What are you doing here?” John asked excitedly, pulling back from the hug with his hands still on Craig’s shoulders.

“River let me in,” Craig said, gesturing over to where River was sitting on the counter, idly flicking through a magazine and glancing up when she heard her name, only to smirk and continue reading. “I heard about the café opening and thought I should come check it out, make sure you weren’t secretly planning on blowing something up again.”

“One time, Craig. That was one time,” John sighed, wrinkling his nose at the memory as he let go of Craig’s shoulders.

Laughing, Craig patted him on the arm. “Three times. Actually it’s four if you count the empty warehouse.”

“We don’t speak of the empty warehouse. Ever,” John replied with a frown, nudging Craig with his elbow when the other man kept laughing.

“Sorry, sorry,” Craig said, taking a deep breath to stop himself from laughing. “Consider it forgotten. Now, can I have a coffee? Only I’ve got to get to work soon.”

At this, John pouted slightly, leading Craig behind the counter. “Can’t you just skip work? Stay with us for the day,” John suggested, fussing about with making the drink, already able to guess at his friend’s answer.

“I wish. Pretty sure that would get me fired though and I can’t afford to let that happen, not with Alfie to provide for as well now,” Craig said, accepting the drink that John handed him with a smile.

At the mention of Alfie’s name, River glanced up. “How is Alfie, Craig?” She asked, putting her magazine down to join in the conversation, glancing quickly at the time to make sure they didn’t have to open yet.

“He’s fine. An absolute nightmare sometimes, but fine,” Craig was saying and, now that River looked closer, she could see how tired he looked. “He recently learnt how to climb out of his cot. Poor Soph was in hysterics when she found out.” 

“You should let us look after him for a day, give you both a break,” John said and, when Craig looked doubtful he added, “I promise we wouldn’t do anything stupid, Craig.”

Craig still looked unsure but he nodded anyway, sipping his coffee. “Well, I’ll see what Sophie says but I guess it isn’t the worst idea. Maybe not the best but certainly not the worst.”

River felt like maybe they should be offended but, at the same time, she was aware that they weren’t the most reliable of people. Just yesterday she’d found John sticking a fork into the toaster and a few days before she’d almost jumped out a window trying to get away from someone.

They weren’t exactly known for their safety or smart thinking.

“Well, whatever Sophie decides, let us know,” John was saying and River nodded her head in agreement, jumping off the counter to hug Craig goodbye and then waving as he left.

“We aren’t really that irresponsible, are we?” John asked once Craig was out the door and River had turned the sign to say they were open.

River didn’t even dignify the question with an answer.

-

“Oi, hands off!”  Sally scowled, pushing Amy away from the tray of brownies. “Those aren’t for you.”

Amy pouted, staring longingly at the tray. She wasn’t, strictly speaking, supposed to be in the kitchen but Sally trusted her enough to let her hang around. Amy had a feeling that it was because she was less prone to making stupid decisions, unlike the others.

 “Please Sally. Come on they look delicious. Just one itty bitty piece?” Amy pleaded, tempted to kneel down on the floor and see where that got her but eventually deciding against it.

Moving the tray out of Amy’s reach, Sally shook her head. “Nope.”

Amy sighed, leaning against the sink as she watched Sally take out some pasties from the oven. “Jerk,” she said under her breath but from the way Sally smirked she figured it hadn’t been quiet enough.

“I’m making food for the Halloween party so be nice or you’ll find that everything you want to eat is burnt,” Sally warned, laughing quietly when Amy made a whining noise. Turning back to the task at hand, Sally began piling the pasties on to a tray. Picking it up, she moved to take it out but then paused, pushing the tray into Amy’s hands instead, not trusting Amy to be alone in the kitchen. “Here, you take this out. John and River aren’t paying you to stand around doing nothing.”

Reluctantly Amy took the tray and left, giving Sally space to start loading dishes into the dishwasher.

Not ten minutes later Amy was back, resuming her space by the sink. She stayed silent for a few minutes before speaking, pulling her hair into a ponytail as she did so. “So, what are you going as for Halloween?”

Sally jumped slightly having not heard Amy enter and she turned the dishwasher on before turning to answer the question. “I don’t really know,” Sally admitted, shrugging. “What’s everyone else going as?”

“John is going as Sherlock Holmes, River is going to be a pirate, and Mickey is going as the tin guy from Wizard of Oz,” Amy rattled off, counting each person on her fingers. “I know Craig and Sophie are coming but no idea what their wearing. As for me, I’m going as a Roman Centurion.”

Nodding, Sally thought for a moment before coming to a decision. “You know those angel statues you see in graveyards and on buildings? I think I’ll go as one of those.”

“Why?”

“Because I think they are interesting.” Sally paused for a moment and then spoke again, smiling slightly. “When I was younger I used to think they moved if you didn’t look at them.”

Amy snorted, shaking her head. “I knew there was crazy in you somewhere.”

-

Climbing up the stepladder, River finished hanging up the last of the Halloween decorations, rather pleased with herself. They’d decided to have the party in the café, it was bigger than their flat and they were less likely to get complaints from neighbours about noise level.

Not that either of them really cared what their neighbours thought, they were just fond of the apartment and didn’t particularly want to be kicked out of it.

“This place looks great,” Mickey commented, helping Sally carry in food from her car and set it out on a table. “Very Halloween-y.”

“Well I’d hope so, I’ve been working on it all day,” River replied, jumping down from the ladder and putting it back in the cupboard before checking out the food, grinning when she saw that cake. “That looks amazing, Sally.” It was chocolate, River presumed that was due to the amount of begging John had been doing over the past week, and was decorated to look like a graveyard. Each gravestone had one of their names writing on it and River was honestly impressed. They’d clearly made the right choice choosing her as their cook.

Sally went to thank River but her words were drowned out by John shouting at them to hurry up and get changed.

One hour later and the party was in full swing although Amy felt it was more of an intimate gathering than a party. By John and River’s standards it was actually pretty tame so far, but it had only been half an hour so she figured there was still plenty of time for something to go wrong.

“Hey, nice hat.”

Amy turned around to see Sally standing there, two beers in her hand, grinning.

“Nice wings,” Amy replied, looking over Sally’s costume. “Looking very grey.”

“I’m a statue, Amy. Statues are grey,” Sally replied, offering Amy one of the beers which she took gladly.

“Could have added a bit of green or something like moss or whatever.”

“Just shut up.”

Amy snickered, feeling like she had won, and saluted, murmuring a “Yes ma’am.”

Sally just rolled her eyes.

-

“Craig, Sophie! You made it,” John grinned, sidestepping Mickey who was doing a rather awful impression of the Robot whilst Sally and Amy cheered and clapped, pulling the both of them into a quick hug.

“Of course! Never pass up the chance for a bit of fancy dress,” Craig, who’d come as a penguin, said, grinning brightly.

Sophie, who’d come as an angel, nodded, the halo around her head bobbing slightly with the action. “And it’s so nice to be out of the house,” she added, leaning against Craig slightly. “Don’t get to do this often anymore.”

John knew that was all too true, having seen his friends much less since the arrival of Alfie. He understood, though, and was pleased to offer his friends some form of escape for a few hours.

“Sophie! Just who I was looking for.”

John turned to see River walking towards them, looking a little like she was up to something. Sophie seemed to sense something was going as well because she eyes River wearily.

“Should I be worried?”

Shaking her head, River tugged on Sophie’s hand. “Not at all, would I do anything to hurt you?” There was a pause and River sighed when she realised what the answer was going to be. “Right okay don’t answer that but come on I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

Sophie still didn’t look convinced but she allowed River to tug her away to where the drinks were set up, expression brightening slightly when she realised alcohol was going to be involved.

Twenty minutes later and everyone had grown curious, crowding around River and Sophie to see what was going on. After much whispering and shooing people away, the two finally turned around.

“We have invented a drinking game!” River announced excitedly, practically jumping on the spot.

“We’re going to play twister,” at this there was groaning around the room but Sophie silenced them with a glare before continuing. “If you have two hands or two feet on the same colour, take a shot.  A hand and a foot on the same colour mean two shots. If you fall, you drink this.” Sophie held up a pitcher that had a suspiciously blue drink in it, grinning.

“This sounds like something that’ll land us in the hospital,” Sally said, looking torn between being amused and terrified. “What’s even in that?”

Her question went unanswered, Amy simply patting her shoulder, nodding, before shouting, “I’ll get the twister mat,” and running off upstairs to her flat.

-

“Mickey, right hand, blue square.”

Mickey, who was currently under Amy with his left leg caught between Sophie and John, attempted to twist himself around to reach the blue circle, only to fall, taking Craig out with him.

There was laughter and shouts of triumph from the others and, whilst Mickey and Craig attempted to untangle themselves from the others and escape, River poured them both a small glass of the blue drink, which she was still yet to name.

Craig, who’d managed to pull himself free from the mat first, took the glass he was offered with a grin before downing it in one, slamming the glass down on the table a little too hard.

Mickey had pretty much given up, lying flat out on the mat and groaning. “I can’t move, I quit, just leave me here,” he whined, only to have the others collapse on top of him, laughing hysterically.

-

“Sit. Sit on the chair.”

It was at least one in the morning and most of the alcohol had been consumed between them. Bits of costume were lying around on the floor, Sally’s wings torn and broken from playing Twister in them, Sophie’s Halo which had been long forgotten, and John’s deerstalker was currently hanging from a light shade.

Craig and Sophie had left around midnight, even after Amy offered them the use of her apartment, and Mickey had gone soon after, saying he wanted to be somewhat coherent tomorrow.

“I’m not sitting on that chair or on any chair near you.”

“Spoil sport,” Amy pouted, poking Sally in the arm with a sigh. She’d been trying to convince Sally to sit in the chair so she could carry her around, insisting it would be fun, but Sally was refusing which Amy knew she’d probably be thankful for when she was sober. “Big meanie spoil sport.”

Sally just giggled and poked her back.

-

There was a rather loud and irritating beeping noise coming from somewhere and that was what John woke up to, wishing the infernal noise would stop because his head felt like it was going to explode. Groaning, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, looking around at his surroundings. It took a moment for him to remember that he, River, and Sally had fallen asleep in Amy’s apartment. He’d fallen asleep on the floor, River curled up beside him, and Sally was stretched out across the sofa, grey body paint smeared across the white leather from where she’d been moving in her sleep.

He had a feeling Amy was not going to appreciate that.

“John, turn the fucking alarm off now,” River was muttering, slapping his arm persistently and John pushed her away before fumbling for his phone, silencing the noise.

He gazed at the phone screen, trying to make out the time in his half asleep state, and realising it was only five am. Wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball and go back to sleep, John pushed himself off the floor, wincing slightly at how stiff his back was.

Unfortunately someone had to go tidy up downstairs and, stupidly, he’d volunteered to do it.

As silently as possible, he changed into a shirt and some trousers that he’d, thankfully, had the foresight to bring, and trudged downstairs, unlocking the café and turning on the lights.

It was, to say the least, a mess, and John silently cursed himself for deciding to have the party here. All he wanted to do was sleep and maybe throw up, not clean up a café.

Slowly but surely he began picking up rubbish, bits of costumes and empty bottles, and throwing them into a black bag, pausing ever few minutes to take a deep breath and convince himself not to be sick.

When there was a knocking at the window, half an hour into John’s pitiful attempts at tidying, he ignored it, thinking it was his headache. When it persisted, however, he finally had the sense to look towards the source of the noise, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Mickey trying to get his attention.

Fumbling with the keys, John eventually managed to unlock the door and let Mickey in, scowling at the door when it shut too loudly for his liking.

“You look like hell,” Mickey observed, glad he’d chosen to leave the party early yesterday instead of sticking around for the rest of it. He still felt hung over, but not unbearably so, and it made waking up this morning slightly easier.

John winced, gesturing for Mickey to lower his voice, his head still pounding. “What are you doing here? Your shift starts at seven thirty,” John said, glancing at the clock to make sure he had in fact gotten up at five like he’d thought.

“I figured this place was going to need some cleaning up when I left last night,” Mickey shrugged, hanging his coat on the back of a chair and taking the bin bag from John. “Thought I’d come by and lend a hand. Are the girls still sleeping?”

Nodding, John bent down, picking up streamers that had fallen off the ceiling and throwing them in the bag. “I thought I’d be able to tidy this up by myself, let them all sleep in for a bit. I may have underestimated the amount of mess we’d created.”

Mickey laughed, falling quiet when John scowled in his direction. “Come on, we can get this cleared up easy. Then, before Sally wakes up, I’ll make us some bacon rolls.”

“Why before she wakes up?”

“Because Sally would kill me if she caught me using her precious oven. And it worries me that I mean that literally.”

-

It took the better part of an hour but between the two of them they managed to have the café looking clean and tidy.

“See. Good as new,” Mickey grinned, placing a plate in front of John with two bacon rolls on it and a cup of coffee.

“The bacon’s burnt,” John pointed out, biting into the sandwich anyway, not really all that bothered.

“I never said I was a good cook,” Mickey shrugged, sitting opposite John and eating his sandwich, quite content to just sit there in silence, guessing John wasn’t up for much talking.

Not long after, the girls were awake, walking into the café with cups of coffee, dressed and looking ready for work if not slightly tired.

“Where did you get those,” Sally asked, noticing the half-finished rolls in front of the boys and raising an eyebrow.

Innocently, Mickey smiled and stood, gathering the plates. “I bought them on the way here,” he answered easily. He didn’t fail to see the way she frowned, most likely seeing right through the lie, but he chose to ignore it, standing up.

Walking away to place the plates in the kitchen, Mickey paused and turned around, grinning wickedly. “C’mon guys, we have to open in like ten minutes. Let’s start getting ready,” he all but shouted, laughing at the various groans and sounds of anger from the others.

-

Donna had been standing at the counter for at least five minutes now and her patience was starting to run thin. She just wanted to grab a mocha before heading off to work yet the person at the till hadn’t even noticed she was here yet.

In fact Donna had a sneaking suspicion that the man was sleeping. She knew it was early, barely ten minutes past seven, but that didn’t excuse him.

Finally she sighed, growing impatient, and tapped the man on the head. When that didn’t work Donna scowled and, without thinking twice about it, stormed into the kitchen.

“Is it possible to get a drink in this place without making myself late for work?” She asked, glaring at the three people in the kitchen, all of whom stared at here with wide eyes. “Well?”

“I’m sorry but you aren’t allowed back here, employees only.”

Donna glared at the girl who’d spoken, pointing in the direction of outside. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if the guy at the till would do his job.”

Another girl, the red haired one, raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s sleeping.”

The three people all rushed to get out the kitchen, pushing in front of each other to see what she was talking about, trying to stifle their laughter when they saw what she meant.

“John! Wake up,” one of the girls, Sally, Donna noted from the name tag, slapped the man on the back of the head. “We have customers you idiot.”

John woke with a start, rubbing at the back of his head and blushing slightly. “I just, I only closed my eyes for like five minutes,” he mumbled, barely managing to contain a yawn as Sally and Amy tugged him off to the side.

“I’m so sorry, he’s not usually like this,” the guy, Mickey, was saying, stepping into the spot John had been in and attempting a smile. “What was it you wanted?”

Donna ordered her drink, watching Sally and the other girl, Amy, muttering something about how River was going to kill him, whoever that was. She almost felt sorry for the guy and, if it wasn’t for the fact she was still angry about having to wait while he slept, she’d maybe feel a bit guilty.

As it was, though, he’d chosen to sleep during work and so she simply shrugged the feeling away, deciding it was his own fault.

“Here you go. Sorry about the trouble,” Mickey was saying, handing her drink over and refusing to accept the money she tried to give him. “It’s free. Consider it an apology.”

Donna wanted to say it was fine, no trouble, but she figured he would know she was lying so she simply nodded, accepting her drink with a smile and leaving the café.

As she walked down the street she took a sip of her drink and sighed. They may have seemed unorganised but she had to admit they made a damn good mocha.


	3. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sally starts to wonder about the people her bosses associate with, Rory may or may not have just broken his laptop, and Donna isn't sure why she keeps coming back here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to very quickly apologise for how long this took to update! College work has been, and will be, taking up a lot of my time.

If asked, Sally could list a number of reasons she felt her co-workers were insane and potentially dangerous.

Not dangerous because of the almost fires (Sally had banned them from her kitchen to avoid those), or the time John had decided to play darts with knives (which had admittedly scared her shitless, but River had thankfully put a stop to that). No, what she felt was dangerous were the people her co-workers seemed to associate with.

They’d had honest to god gangs in the café at one point. The people who’d called themselves the Daleks and had, apparently, declared John to be their mortal enemy. River had informed her that John owed them money or some form of super computer and the fact that she had said it so calmly and had even forgotten what it was they wanted made Sally nervous.

Amy seemed used to it, most likely because she’d known them longer, although Sally wasn’t sure how anyone could be so unaffected after being threatened multiple times by people who probably had access to dangerous weapons.

She’d asked, of course, because she’d always been inquisitive, and Amy had laughed, replying that John had access to plenty of weapons himself so they never worried.

That seemed the sort of thing that should make her worry more but, instead, she found the thought somewhat comforting.

Sally felt that that said more about her life than she would like.

“Hey, I’m looking for John Smith and River Song? Told they work here?”

Pulled out of her thoughts by a voice that definitely didn’t belong to anyone she knew and certainly had no place in her kitchen, Sally’s first thought was to demand the person leave. Then she turned around from the counter where she had been glazing doughnuts and paused, eyes flickering from the man’s face to the gun holster around his waist. She sincerely hoped the man wasn’t another dangerous associate.

“Well you won’t find them in here, so out you go. I’m busy,” she managed to bite out, proud that her voice didn’t waver as she stared the man down.

The man acted as if she hadn’t said a word, making no move to leave, instead leaning against the doorframe in the sort of arrogant manner that River usually did. “You must be their chef, Sally. I’m a friend of theirs.”

With a quick glance behind her, Sally took hold of the bread the knife that was sitting in its usual spot against the wall, holding it by her side and smiling slightly. “I’m well acquainted with the sort of ‘friends’ those two have.” Really, the knife may have seemed a tad ridiculous but, at the same time, the man could be hiding a handgun somewhere and she felt that justified her being a little bit paranoid.

“I can assure you I’m all too different from the sort of friends you probably mean.” The man paused, eyeing the knife before speaking again. “I’m more like their actual friends.”

“What, annoying and reckless?”

“I was aiming more for fun and attractive.”

Sally snorts and the man smirks at her but, as charming as he seemed to think he was, she didn’t release the grip on her knife. “John and River should be out front,” she informed him, nodding towards the door again in the hopes he’d leave.

“They weren’t there. Amy and the Mickey kid are though, pointed me in this direction.”

“Amy and Mickey?” Sally asked with a sigh, wondering why they would send him in here knowing full well John and River wouldn’t be. It was probably their latest attempt to annoy her and, quite honestly, they’d succeeded. Then again, if Amy trusted the man, she supposed he was of no real danger and carefully set down her knife. “I’m afraid to say you’ve been misled,” she informed him, moving across the kitchen to take out a batch of brownies from the oven as the small alarm that was her timer started going off.

“Can’t say I’m complaining,” the man replied and Sally glared at him as she turned around, all too aware that the man was watching her in a way that would make Amy declare that she was being ‘checked out’ although Sally had never much liked the phrase. “I’m Jack Harkness, by the way. Don’t believe I introduced myself.”

“Sally,” she replies simply, depositing the brownies on to a cooling rack and busying herself by cutting them into rectangles, figuring the man, Jack, would leave and continue his search. Apparently she’d been wrong though, noticing he’d moved to lean against the counter she was stood at. “You really won’t find them standing around in here,” she assured him after a few moments of silence and a glance over confirmed that the man was grinning at her.

“I was hoping I’d find a date, though.”

“You mean with the girl who was willing to stab you if you so much as looked at her funny?”

“That exact one.”

“I’m afraid you are barking up the wrong tree, my friend.”

That didn’t seem to bother Jack much and he shrugged, offering her another grin. “It was worth a shot,” he shrugged pushing away from the counter and reaching for a brownie, looking more than a little offended when Sally slapped his hand away.

“You’re as bad as the others,” Sally sighed and then finally managed to shoo him out of her kitchen, promising to save him one of the brownies for him to buy later.

With a huff, Sally did a quick wash of her hands before moving on to bake something else, making sure to listen out for anything alarming, just in case.

-

“You escaped out the kitchen without as much as a scratch? Shame,” Amy said, glancing towards the kitchen door and looking far too disappointed, in Jack’s opinion.

He and Amy were perched on stools behind the counter, not so sneakily eating lunch although Amy had decided it didn’t matter since the few people in their café were regulars.

“Did you send me in there knowing Sally would possibly attempt to murder me?” Jack asked, taking a bite of the sandwich Amy had given him.

He wasn’t at all surprised to see her nod, although the grin was more than a little worrisome. “I was just making sure she’d be able to handle herself in case someone genuinely terrifying happened to come by,” she replied innocently and Jack had no doubts that she was lying.

He didn’t get much of a chance to comment, though, because a scream of horror and then a flurry of curse words interrupted them and the pair looked over to a table where the two university students were sitting. One of them, who Amy told him was Martha, was trying to calm the other one, Rory, down. Nothing seemed to be really helping and apparently Amy took pity on the two because she abandoned her lunch to go see what the problem was.

Jack decides to follow her soon after, taking his sandwich along too because he’s hungry and, well, this had nothing to do with him.

“He spilt his coffee all over the laptop and it just switched off,” Martha was saying, glancing at Rory who appeared to have gone into a state of shock, simply staring at his apparently dead laptop. “He’d near enough finished the essay he was writing too.”

“There might be some rice in the kitchen. We could cover the laptop in it and see if that does anything?” Amy offered and it appeared that all Rory could do was nod, looking lost for words.

When Amy turned to Jack, holding the laptop out expectantly, he shook his head. “I’m pretty sure Sally will chop my hand off, or worse, if I go back in there. I’d rather not risk it.”

Amy rolled her eyes and Jack was pretty sure he heard her mutter ‘wimp’ under her breath.

“Are you a friend of the owners?” Martha asks him once Amy has left; carefully patting her friend on the back in what Jack assumes is supposed to be a comforting manner.

“Well you could say I’m rather well acquainted with them,” Jack said with a grin, allowing the two to interpret that as they wished.

Martha looked him up and down, laughing lightly as she replied “Yeah, I bet you are.”

“My laptop is broken could you two stop please,” came the muffled voice of Rory who’d buried his head in his arms, resting them on the table.

“The essay is due in tomorrow, he’s getting pretty stressed.” Martha explained at Jack’s raised eyebrow, shrugging. “Doesn’t help that it’s the pretty red head that came to his rescue.”

Jack grinned at that, glancing over his shoulder to where Amy had gone. “He likes Amy?”

The confirmation came in the form of Martha smirking at Rory’s strangled yelp of denial and really that was all Jack needed.

“I’m going to kill you Martha. Kill you,” Rory muttered, glaring at his friend who rolled her eyes.

“Please, it’s not like everyone doesn’t know,” Martha sighed, although Jack noticed the subject was dropped when Amy returned, carrying what looked like a washing up bowl filled with rice and, apparently, Rory’s laptop.

Amy carefully placed the washing up bowl on to the table with a ta-da motion, looking rather pleased with herself. “I don’t know how long you’re supposed it leave it for,” she admitted, staring at the bowl with her hands on her hips. “But I read somewhere this is what you’re supposed to do when things get wet.”

Jack didn’t quite stop his laughter in time but before he could make a joke Amy had hit him round the head, effectively silencing him.

“It’s probably best to leave it overnight,” Martha said, doing much better at biting back laughter. “Would we be all right to come by tomorrow morning and grab it?”

“Oh, ‘course you can!” Amy replied cheerily, nodding. “I’ll be sure to look after it until then.”

Jack figured the laptop would be fine, sure, as long as John didn’t get his hands on it. Otherwise Rory would probably end up with something out of a sci-fi film, although he decided it best not to mention it until Rory left, waving goodbye at the students as they walked out the cafe.

“So you’re going to hide that from John, right?” Jack said, wanting to make sure. He’d seen his friend left alone with bits of tech, heck, he’d left his friend with bits of tech, and it always produced scary and sometimes worrying results.

Or said tech would be scattered around a room and he’d have given up whatever he’d been trying to do to it, which was usually worse.

“I’m not an idiot,” was Amy’s reply as she picked up the bowl, undoubtedly hiding it away somewhere.

-

It was later in the afternoon, John and River had come back from wherever they’d disappeared too and, after a quick discussion, Jack had left.

Mickey, who’d spent the morning cleaning tables, had swapped with Amy to be behind the counter, happily conversing with Sally who was bringing out a fresh batch of cupcakes.

“Oh, those look delicious! Let’s get a couple of those, Rose,” a voice said and Mickey turned to two girls who’d just arrived, both looking a little windswept.

“We only came here to get a coffee, Clara. Don’t have the money for those as well,” Rose reminded her friend and Mickey watched as the two girls exchanged a look before deciding to cough slightly to grab their attention, not wanting them to start holding up what would undoubtedly soon turn into quite the queue.

“How can I help you?” he asked with a smile when he had their attention.

“Two large coffees, one with milk and one without, to drink in,” Clara said as Rose handed over the money.

“I’ll have those over to you in a moment,” he said, jotting down a quick note on to the writing pad they kept by the till and the girls thanked him before going and sitting at a table.

He went to hand the note over to River so she could get started on the coffee’s but Sally, who’d apparently not yet left, took it from him, writing something else down on the order before handing it over and heading back to the kitchen, shouting out to John that she was off to take her break.

“Sally’s feeling generous,” River observed as she read the notepad, showing it to Mickey where Sally had added 2 cupcakes to the order which she’d pay for later, written out in her loopy handwriting. Mickey glanced at the kitchen then shrugged, turning back to the customer who had taken to tapping their foot impatiently against the floor.

-

Stepping out of the kitchen in her coat, Sally glanced around the café, looking at Mickey with a puzzled look as he called her over.

“Sorry, could you take this over to those two girls quickly. Amy and John are trying to deal with, well,” he paused and Sally looked in the direction Mickey gestured to, wincing when she saw a customer who was currently shouting about god knows what.

“Looks like I’m leaving at the right time,” Sally replied, eyeing the customer who looked like he was mere seconds away from emptying the contents of his drink on to John which didn’t bode well. She picked up the tray, careful to not spill the coffee as she walked over and set it down at the table with a smile, barely registering the sounds of the girls’ protests and only stopping when she felt someone grab hold of her wrist.

“No, sorry, we didn’t order these,” the brunette, Clara, was saying as she held on to Sally’s wrist, pointing at the cupcakes with her other hand.

“I know,” Sally said, nodding. “But really, what’s a coffee date without a sweet treat?”

“No, we can’t accept these. Thank you, though,” Clara said and Sally couldn’t help but feel slightly offended. People were usually over joyed to have one of her cakes free of charge.

“What if I said it was a bribe to get you to come here more often?” Sally tried, smirking slightly at Clara's smile.

“Well that might just work,” the other one, Rose, was saying as she bit into the cupcake with a grin, clearly having no issue accepting the free food.

Clara released her grip on Sally’s wrist, allowing her to pull it away. “Enjoy it. I’m told my cupcakes are pretty great,” she said once her wrist was free, putting her hands into her coat pocket with a grin. Then, with a quick wave goodbye, she was outside in the street, knowing full well the others were going to have far too much to say about this when she returned.

But, well, if the others were annoyed that two strangers could obtain more free cupcakes then they could, how was that her problem?

-

_‘I’m going to have to change café’s soon, I can’t deal with this,’_ Donna thought as she stood at the counter, watching Amy and John argue over what looked to be a bowl of rice that was sat by the till.

She’d been coming here often over the last few weeks, had apparently become somewhat of a friend to these people, and was now sat here, near closing time, waiting for a mocha which didn’t appear to be coming to her anytime soon.

“John I promised him I would look after it!” Amy was saying and Donna had no idea who he was and she wasn’t entirely sure why a bowl of rice needed looking after.

“I’ll give it back in one piece, Amy,” John sighed, moving to make a grab for the bowl but Amy simply slapped his hands away.

“That’s what you said about my phone.”

“Are you going to bring that up every time?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t taken it to pieces!”

They continued to argue and, eventually growing fed up, Donna took a hold of the bowl and carried it into the kitchen, asking Sally to hide it from the both of them.

“Are they still fighting over that?” Sally asked with a sigh, hiding the bowl away in the kitchen before going back to cleaning up. “They’ve been at it for hours.”

Donna must have looked as confused as she felt because Sally glanced at her with a laugh. “It’s got a laptop in it. Those two uni students, one of them spilt coffee on their laptop and apparently that’s the way to dry it out,” she explained and, although that explained the bowl of rice, it didn’t quite explain why they were arguing over it.

“So why does John want it?”

“John thinks he’s a bit of a whizz with technology. He wanted to try and ‘improve’ it,” Sally said with a grimace, shaking her head. “Amy doesn’t want to risk him turning the laptop into some sort of killer robot.”

Donna would have laughed if Sally hadn’t said it so seriously.

A shout startled the two of them, Amy sounding a mixture of worried and pissed off as she shouted, “The bowl is gone!”

Donna, deciding this was her cue, slipped out of the kitchen, barely in time to stop Amy from full on attacking John.

“I took the stupid bowl, calm down,” Donna sighed, raking her hand through her hair. “And I hid it extremely well, so before you go hunting for it I’d like my mocha.”

When John had sighed, turning away to make her drink, Donna pointed towards to kitchen and mouthed ‘Sally has it’ to Amy who, in return, gave her a thumbs up and a grin before running off to retrieve it, probably to lock it away in her flat for the rest of the night.

“I was only trying to help,” John muttered as he handed Donna the drink, accepting the money and placing it in the till.

She patted him on the shoulder, laughing. “Maybe next time it’d be best if you didn’t.”

-

It was 6am, Rory was tired, grumpy, and incredibly close to just giving up entirely. He’d, somehow, managed to gather a crowd. Apparently all the employees were interested to see how this would turn out.

River had claimed this was about as exciting as their day would probably get. Mickey had laughed so hard he’d given himself the hiccups and Rory was glad he wasn’t the only one who seriously doubted that was true.

“If this works I’ll have two hours to finish up my essay,” Rory said as he took the laptop out the rice, trying to not panic too badly.

“And if it doesn’t work?” John had asked, earning himself a glare from everyone else as Rory winced.

“Then I’m curling up under the table and never leaving again,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath as he opened the laptop and pressed the power button. The few seconds it took to start up felt like minutes and Rory just stared, silently praying to every deity he could think of that it would start working.

When the screen turned on, everybody cheered, and Rory grinned, relieved. If he’d had to re-write the essay from scratch he’d have screamed.

“I’ll go get the coffee machine started! Coffee’s on the house, for everyone!”

Rory and Martha didn’t even have a chance to protest before Amy was off to do exactly that, Sally following behind her as the two spoke.

“That was a close call, mate. You got lucky,” Mickey grinned, patting Rory on the back before John dragged him off to start setting up to open.

“2800 words in two hours. Think I can do it?” Rory said to Martha who sat opposite him, head resting on the table.

“With time to spare,” she mumbled, and Rory had the sneaking suspicion that she was falling back to sleep.

Not that he had time to worry about that, there was an essay to finish and, hopefully, a free coffee with his name on it.


End file.
